When All is Said and Done, It's You that I Call Home
by Jbsullivan17
Summary: Bellamy receives custody of his 12 year old sister Octavia and she goes to school for the first time, requiring a tutor to help her catch up in her classes. Clarke is the smartest sophomore in her class and a wonderful, though pushy, tutor. This summary sucks but this took me forever to write. :P
Bellamy was always focused on Octavia, he spent years after school tutoring her in history and English and what math he knows, which he doesn't ever admit isn't too much, and basically no science knowledge. It was their mother's doing. She had to raise two kids alone. One had to be hidden because the government passed an idiotic law only allowing one child born. They administered birth control and ran home searches constantly but they didn't find her for twelve years.

But they found her and almost took her away from him but he was a week away from turning eighteen and he somehow managed to become her legal guardian. She began going to school and while finishing out his senior year, he tried helping her catch up with the seven years of schooling she's missed out on. She knew what he taught her, what he loves, Roman and Greek history and mythology, the stories of the sky and constellations. He brought her whatever girly books he could find at the library and she read every word in every book but still didn't know anything about math and science. The school recommended a tutor and he agreed. No matter how much the state gave him to support her, Bellamy still had to work to keep their little house so it was nice knowing that Octavia wasn't home alone.

Then he was told that the tutor was a sophomore at his high school, that he knew her. And he hated the idea of a fifteen year old teaching his impressionable sister.

He walked in the house after a long shift and found them curled up on the sofa watching TV and laughing.

"Done studying?" he spat at the back of a blonde head, not remembering the name that O told him. Carter or some other typical boy name.

"Actually," the blonde stood and spun around, crossing her arms. "She didn't want to be left alone and you wouldn't answer your phone."

Bellamy gave the tutor a once over, grimacing at her bleach white polo that was perfectly tucked into her blue skirt. Not a single blonde wave out of place. This girl was money and trouble.

"Not all of us have the luxury of _hanging out_ after school, princess. Some of us have to work."

"Bellamy!" Octavia spat. "Clarke, I'm sorry about him, he's not usually like this."

"No worries, O. I should get going though. Don't forget PEMDAS," the blonde smiled at Octavia before collecting her stuff and from the kitchen table and left.

"What is wrong with you?" O spat once the front door was closed.

"I had to work two extra hours and I come home to you hanging out, watching… what is that? And the kitchen is a mess!"

"We made your favorite, thought you'd like a treat on top of a congratulations."

"Congra—what are you talking about?" he grimaced, more confused than ever.

Octavia pointed to the large manila envelope on the kitchen table, "Berkeley."

"O… I can't— _we_ can't move across the country. How am I going to pay for it?"

"Scholarships. Clarke printed out a bunch from the internet that you'd have a huge chance in winning because you're such a nerd."

"We're not going! I'll go to community college. We are staying here."

"You can't throw away your dreams for me, Bell. You love history."

"I love you. I'm the adult here and I've made my decision," he exclaimed, he never raised his voice at her and hated the look she gave him but knew she'd get over it. "I'm going to bed," he said softer, kissing her forehead. "Have a good night."

Over the next few months, Bellamy and Clarke were at each other's throats. Always picking fights and belittling each other and he pretended not to remember her name ninety percent of the time, knowing that it irked her more when he called her "princess".

One Saturday night, about four months after Clarke began tutoring Octavia, Bellamy's coworker, Miller, invited him to a party after their shift. He decided to go for an hour or two, Octavia is usually asleep by the time he got home so what would it hurt. Besides, Clarke was there.

Miller told Bellamy that it was his boyfriend's best friend's class mate's ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend's party and that the longer story would make that make sense.

When he pulled into the long driveway behind Miller's Jeep, he parked right behind Miller and got out, glaring up at the extravagant house, they could fit about a dozen of his and Octavia's house inside this place and then some. It was extensive.

But compared to the house, the party was rather small, it was more of a get together, around fifteen people that separated themselves into two separate groups of people. Still too many people for Bellamy's liking, he prefers two or three people but still rather just have a book, Octavia and Clarke call him lame (Clarke uses harsher words but they still don't sting). He recognized a handful of people from the halls at school but they were all strangers.

But Bellamy didn't think about any of that, just followed Miller through the hall and into the kitchen where they found Bryan, Miller's boyfriend, who greeted him with a chaste kiss. Bellamy knew of Monty Green who was passing out cups of moonshine that he distilled in his parents' basement. Next to Monty stood his slightly intoxicated best friend Jasper who kept rambling on about how wrong Raven is and engineers are the reasons that mechanics exist.

Bellamy knew Raven. They haven't talked in six months, since the night she begged him for sex and he reluctantly but willingly gave in because he needed the release just as much as she did.

"Bellamy?" she asked walking into the room, handing her cup to Monty for a refill.

"Good to see you, Raven," he said cordially. Someone has to maintain peace.

"Miller, Lexa and her cohorts want to duel and I told them to take it outside but I'm not _strong_ enough for them to take me seriously," she grimaced at her leg that was in some contraption that Bellamy knows he should know about but his mind was blank.

Miller huffed, "Come on, Gimpy, you don't want to be here with Jasper right now either." He smirked before grabbing her now full cup from Monty and headed into the living room, passing a pale brunette on her way in.

Bryan stayed at Raven's pace as they followed Miller out to Lexa.

"Jasper, what happened to my drink?" she asked, curling into the cabinet next to him.

"Monty, you allowed me to forget my lady's beverage," Jasper scolded, slurring his words.

"Sorry, Maya," Monty apologized, pouring her a glass of his shine. "Bellamy?" he offered.

"I can't, I'm driving home later," he explained, his mind drifting to Octavia.

Monty nodded and Maya asked the million dollar question, "So, how do you know Miller?"

"We work together."

"You work at the Ark?" she asked, impressed.

"Yeah, some security after school and on the weekends. It's nothing."

"No, I've been trying to get a summer internship there, they're making huge strides in medicine! I also applied for one at Mount Weather, they have the best art collection in the northern hemisphere."

Bellamy had no idea what the girl was talking about but it was okay because Jasper distracted her and Monty just then and Bellamy made his escape into the living room where the obnoxious house music was coming from, or so he previously thought before realizing that the house had a top of the line stereo system with speakers in every room. Walking in he expected to see Miller and Raven arguing with this Lexa person and her friends—cohorts? Instead he came across an expensive-looking sofa and a small blonde hunched over and her hair blocking her face from him, he heard a few weak sobs before her head shot up and she looked directly at him, glared at him.

"What are you doing here?" she spat, mascara streaming down her cheeks.

"Miller invited me. What are you doing here?"

"This is my house."

"Go figure," he scoffed.

"Go home, Bellamy."

"Why are you crying?" he probed, without a shred of empathy.

"Why do you suddenly care?"

"Clarke—"

"Where's Octavia?" she asked cutting him off.

"Where you left her."

She sighed, "Could you go help Miller? Lexa is ruthless."

"Who is she?"

"A backstabbing bitch who I thought I could trust and will do anything to make it up to me but I just want her to leave me the hell alone."

"But a duel?" he questioned what Raven said.

"They play with swords, kind of like cosplay. I didn't know that about her when I dated her though. She's still a ruthless bitch."

"I'll go help Miller then," Bellamy said, not wanting to leave the crying princess alone in her castle.

Bellamy arrived home an hour later, after he helped Miller and Raven get rid of Clarke's unwanted ex-girlfriend and friends. He left without saying goodbye but then again, he only knew Clarke and Miller. Miller was there when Bellamy hopped in his truck and left and Clarke didn't want anything to do with him.

He checked in on the sleeping Octavia before heading to his own bed.

He was making breakfast for Octavia the next morning when Clarke stormed in and to the counter next to him. "If you tell anyone about last night—"

"You crying?"

"Bellamy—" she said, more pleading than warningly.

"What princess? You left my sister here alone to throw a party. A party that I showed up to thinking you were here with Octavia. So you crying over your sociopath of an ex-girlfriend isn't high on my list of things I don't like about you. It's barely a blip on my radar."

"I'm here when you're not, I'm sorry I thought you'd be home last night. I also asked Kane next door to keep an eye out."

"Kane hates me. He wouldn't—"

"He's dating my mom. He wants me to like him so he does what I ask."

"Princess," Bellamy smirked, flipping the bubbling pancakes.

Clarke scoffed and Bellamy turned to scold her again but saw Octavia standing in the doorway. "I can take care of myself, Bell, you know that," she said walking to the refrigerator.

"I know, but you still can't be home alone."

"Maybe I could take her to—"

"You've done enough!" he snapped at Clarke and he saw her recoil before Octavia opened her mouth.

"Bellamy, I was sleeping! Even if something happened to me, you wouldn't have known. You'd be reading about Julius Caesar or Augustus completely unaware of what's going on in my room."

Bellamy sighed, knowing his sister used Augustus against him but he couldn't stay mad at her, she's been through too much already in her short life.

"Clarke, you were saying?" Octavia sighed.

"To ensure Bellamy of your wellbeing, maybe I could tutor you at my house so I _can't_ leave you alone. He can pick you up on his way home."

"That is ridiculous!" Bellamy exclaimed, finding his voice.

"My house is the halfway point. You drive by it."

"Why are you being so nice to us? What do you get out of it?"

"Get out of this? Bellamy, I just want to help Octavia reach her full potential."

"She stays after school for art club, and the girls' lacrosse team is holding tryouts. I think I might like lacrosse but I have to figure that out on my own. I'm not the little girl under the floorboards that needs you to hush me just before they search the house. I get to make this decision, I get to be a person."

"I'd have to get you a stick and mouth guard. They're expensive."

"That's only if I make the team."

"You come off sweet, O, but you're vicious. You'll make the team."

Octavia smiled so widely that he thought her cheeks were going to burst.

"Augustus," Bellamy scolded her, turning back to the pancakes that were slightly over cooked.

"I love you too, big brother. Clarke is staying for breakfast," she declared and Bellamy had a feeling that she was up to something.

That week Octavia made the lacrosse team and the coach allowed her to use one of the old, used sticks that the school had for gym class. Then a few weeks later it was her birthday and Bellamy was a few dollars short of the retail price on a new lacrosse stick for her so he promised that she'd have it when he got paid but when they got home from her first movie theater experience, there was a large box leaning against the door with a large blue bow on it with _Octavia_ written in intricately delicate writing.

Her smile was what he lived for and having a real birthday present made her smile for ear to ear as he carried the box inside so she could make a big mess with the wrapping paper.

He sighed, watching her open the box and grimaced when he saw the lacrosse stick that he's been saving up a month for. Damn princess showing him up once again.

"Thank you, Bell!" she exclaimed wrapping her arms around him and he kissed the top of her head. How can he tell her that it wasn't him?

"You're welcome."

"Clarke drew me a picture, its pastels which she's never worked with before and she framed it."

"That's great! Can I see it?" he asked, pushing her to arm's length.

Octavia ran to her room, excited to finally have a real birthday and Bellamy didn't want to ruin it. When she came back a moment later she carried an eighteen by twenty four inch frame for the drawing Clarke drew. Octavia knew how to build up suspense, hiding it from him until he almost tore it out of her hands.

She spun it around and Bellamy's breath caught, Clarke drew Octavia perfectly. It wasn't just his sister that blew her away, it was the way her face was lit by the glow of the hundreds of iridescent butterflies around her, their soft green glow lighting the small area around them. They were beautiful. Clarke was amazing.

 _The rude princess,_ he thought almost laughing out loud. How could she do this to him? Give Octavia his gift to her before he could? It's rude, callous and hurtful, throwing her money at them like it was nothing. Like a charity.

"It's beautiful," Bellamy said choking down bile in his throat.

Octavia nodded, "She's really amazing, I don't know how you don't see it."

"I see her arrogance."

"She's caring, Bell. She helps us. She helps you and you take her for granted."

"I take her for granted? You and Clarke have been running the show, I'm just a member of the cast, occasionally getting a word in."

"That's not true, you and Clarke argue more than I get tutoring."

"Then she's doing a terrible job," Bellamy grimaced and began cleaning up the torn wrapping paper from the floor.

"She's my only friend."

"What about Atom?" he asked remembering the boy she talked about a few months ago.

"You met him and chased him off," she reminded him and the doorbell rang. "I got it," she said and ran over to the door and opened it and Bellamy heard a squeal. Dropping everything in fear of his sister's safety, instantly relaxing at the sight of the blonde waves.

"Happy birthday," she chuckled when Octavia let her go. "Ah, Bellamy got you the lacrosse sticks," she smiled at him.

"And I got to go to the movies for the first time!" O squealed and Bellamy loved how happy she was but it's late and she should get some sleep before school in the morning.

"You've been looking forward to that," Clarke said with a weak smile.

"O, it's getting late. Start getting ready for bed," Bellamy said sternly and the thirteen year old glared at him before she turned and went to her room to change into her pajamas.

"Don't be mad," Clarke whispered so that Octavia wouldn't hear.

"Mad? I'm furious. I'm at the point where I want to kick you out of our lives but you're her only friend. A friend who pities her," he spat back in a hushed tone.

"I don't pity her or you, Bellamy. You were both dealt a shit hand and because I do care, more than my mother would allow, I'm trying to help. I help Octavia study, I helped you with her birthday present because all that you allow me to see is your financial struggle. You'd hide that from me if you could."

"We don't need your money, princess," he spat.

"Bellamy, I know that you only see dollar signs when you look at me but people are more than what their polished exteriors look like."

"What you see is what you get," he shrugged but knew she had a point, she may be throwing money at him but it was for Octavia's birthday present. He should be thankful.

Clarke groaned loudly and Bellamy slightly hoped for a childish foot stomp that never came. "Why are you so obtuse?"

"Because my life isn't a charity."

"That's why no one invests in you!" Clarke spat and stormed out of their house, slamming the front door behind her.

"Happy birthday, Octavia," she said in the doorway of her bedroom and slammed it behind her.

* * *

 _Bellamy Blake is a loathed asshole,_ she typed on her phone to Raven once she got home.

 _Preach,_ Raven responded with the angry emoticon that she mainly used with discussing Jasper.

 _It's Octavia's birthday and he's acting like I hijacked it!_

 _Did you buy the lacrosse stick?_ She asked then sent: _I told you not to._ And: _Why don't you ever listen to me?_

 _Is this going to turn into Finn again because Ray, I didn't know,_ Clarke grimaced thinking about their two-timing ex-boyfriend.

 _No, Clarke, you don't buy the lacrosse stick for Octavia. Just because they're not well off doesn't mean you can buy their love._

 _So they're like you?_ Clarke wrote back knowing the slam she'll get will be brutal.

 _I hate saying this but yes, Bellamy is like me._

Clarke stifled back a laugh, knowing that Raven and Bellamy aren't on the best of terms but knew Raven wouldn't say it if it weren't true. _Going to sleep. See you tomorrow,_ she wrote back and plugged her phone in to charge on the night stand.

She opened her locker at school and an envelope fell to the ground. She picked it up and opened it, her blood boiling instantly. Bellamy gave her the money for Octavia's lacrosse stick. How can someone so responsible be so dense?

She stewed through four periods until lunch where she stormed up to him and Nathan Miller, slamming the envelope down in front of Bellamy.

"Princess," he said, not surprised or angry or any sort of tone behind it, just _princess_. It was calming and she fought it.

"I don't want it," she said forcefully.

"Neither do I."

"Bellamy," she said shaking her head. "Please keep it, you worked hard for it. Get her new clothes or something, I only want to help."

"We aren't a charity."

"I didn't say you were," she said, her voice shaky. How could he not see how she cared for him? For Octavia? Clarke always wanted siblings and she sees Octavia as the little sister she never had.

"Guys, I don't know what this is about but you might want to do it in front of a room full of people," Miller suggested and they looked around them to see people watching and Clarke looked at Bellamy expectantly.

He stood and walked out of the hallway where there were a heck of a lot less people and Bellamy decided to pick a desolate spot and leaned against the wall.

"I—I care," she admitted. "I think of Octavia as a sister so I want to help you guys. I don't care if you like me. I just want you to know that I'm not going anywhere. I'm not throwing money at you or Octavia, I'm trying to help you keep your house without being overly intrusive."

"You are intrusive."

"Tell me that you don't have something you can spend this money on, a bill you could pay," she offered.

"That isn't the point, I don't need you to save me."

"I don't want to save you, I just don't want to see you struggle more than you have to. People are willing to help you and you push them away."

"I'm not who I was when I met them. I can't find that person," he grumbled.

"You're trying to be someone you're not? What logical sense does that make?"

"I'm not logical, I'm—"

"Scared to let people in just in case they decide to leave?"

"Don't psychoanalyze me, princess."

"I'm just trying to understand your side of this."

"There are no sides. There's me and Octavia and her tutor, guess which one you are."

"Just keep the money, Bell."

"I don't want to owe you anything," he said and stormed off.

Clarke got a brilliant idea and needed to talk to Octavia as soon as possible. The idea made sense considering the fact that her mother spends six nights a week at Kane's, leaving Clarke alone in their large house that she doesn't feel safe in.

Octavia told her that Bellamy had that Friday off and to spring it on him then so, standing on the porch she knocked quickly. The duffel bag weighing heavily on her shoulder, distracting her from the door opening.

When she looked up, she saw Bellamy standing in the middle of the doorway, dressed in a towel that hung low on his hips.

 _What have I gotten myself into?_ she asked herself.

"Clarke?" he asked water dripping from a strand of his hair onto his freckled cheek. She didn't allow herself to look below his neckline. She wouldn't do that to herself or Octavia.

"Hi," she managed to choke out of her dry throat.

"What's all this?"

"I'm moving in," she said pushing past him.

"Um, no. You aren't."

"I'm pretty sure that I am."

"Clarke, get out! You can't princess your way into me changing my mind."

"You can't bully me into changing my mind."

"Where do you expect to sleep? We don't have room."

"Your mom's room."

"No. No!"

"Look, you don't want to get rid of her things, I understand. I'll pack it away but Bellamy, this is a better solution than you crashing on the couch at my house after a long shift and being in pain the next day. I'll also pay rent and buy groceries."

"No."

"This is the perfect solution, Bell."

"Don't call me that. Now pick up your damn duffel bag and go home."

"No."

"Clarke, don't mess with me, this isn't happening. Get out!"

"Bellamy," Octavia called from her room down the hall.

"You spoke to O about this?" he accused.

"Bellamy," Octavia insisted, this time she was in the living room."

"You planned this?" Bellamy asked her.

"No, I said that Mom's room isn't being used but you'd have to agree. You do crash on Clarke's sofa at least twice a week and complain a lot about how uncomfortable it is so just let her, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Going to jail for attempted murder."

"Attempted murder?" she smirked. "He's coming around," Octavia confirmed. "Come on, I'll help you unpack."

"See?" Bellamy called after them as Octavia dragged a confused Clarke down the hall. "Just a supporting character!"

"You're a main character!" Octavia yelled back at him and stopped in front of the door at the end of the hall and Clarke nearly stumbled into her.

"What was that?" Clarke asked referring to the strange exchange between siblings.

"You don't want to know," Octavia groaned opening the door to the bedroom and stepped in.

Clarke followed, dropping the duffel just inside the door and looked around the room. "I might need to since I live here now."

"He's claiming that if our lives were a TV show, we'd be the stars and he's just back ground noise."

"We do make a lot of major decisions without him and when we inform him and he says no, we essentially tell him he doesn't have a choice. He's right, I _princessed_ my way into this."

"I keep telling him that he'd like you if he gave you a chance. Now he doesn't have a choice."

"Strong arming him was your plan."

"And yours."

"Mine is selfish," Clarke stated thinking of the large house five miles down the road.

"You selfishly moved in with us?"

"My mom is next door and I've grown a liking to annoy Bellamy. This way I have more opportunities."

Octavia smirked, "Just don't let me hear it."

"Hear what?"

"You two when you eventually have sex!"

"Octavia!"

"I'm thirteen, Clarke, and you're the one who taught me biology."

Clarke chuckled, shaking her head and sat on the bed. It was harder than what she's used to but she can always bring her mattress over from her house. "I'd like to have grown up in a house like this. It's cozy and lived in, mine is cold and impersonal," she said twisting her father's watch on her wrist, it's become a subconscious habit.

"This house is all Bellamy. The notches in the kitchen doorway, the bookshelf, pictures. This house wasn't a home to me until they took our mom away and Bellamy took care of me. _Which_ brought you to us," O smiled at the last part. "I'm glad that you're here and Bellamy will come around."

"I can handle Bellamy."

Months went by and the three of them had a solid routine down. Saturday mornings Clarke would go next door to Kane's for brunch and they'd order take out for dinner. Sundays and Wednesdays when Bellamy has off of work, he'd cook dinner and the other nights Clarke and Octavia would trade off on the chore. Bellamy stumped Clarke one night when he made individual chicken pot pies and hers didn't have any mushrooms when she watched him slicing them and adding them to the concoction. It was curious that he somehow knew about her distaste without telling him. She didn't even mention it to Octavia.

Their arguments had actual substance most of the time, the other times were about what channel to watch, Bellamy wanted the History Channel and Clarke wanted some science and the occasional Pawn Stars. They typically settled on iZombie, Clarke got her science and Bellamy got zombies. How a history buff could like zombies was beyond her and she voiced her opinion. Bellamy drew a picture for her, imagining her father standing in front of her four years after his death, getting to spend time with him knowing it'd be your last. That's why he likes zombies. It was intriguing, sure, but unrealistic.

"Hey," he said, opening the refrigerator.

"How was work?"

"Saw things I can't talk about, talked about things I'll never see. Fair trade."

"Like what?"

"Rome. Athens, though I don't want to be a cliché with those two. There are a lot more but those two have a long history."

"You're such a dork," she chuckled, absently sketching on the paper in front of her.

"What are you drawing?"

"Oh, I don't—" she looked down at the dimpled chin that matched his and crumpled it up. "It sucked," she lied, it was perfect because she'd had a lot of practice. She has three sketch pads at her house under her bed filled with his dimpled chin, overabundance of freckles and veined forearms that she can't get out of her head.

"Okay," he grimaced. "What's for dinner?"

"I was thinking pizza."

"You're going to make pizza?"

"I was about to make the dough."

"Do you know how to?" he quirked.

"I found a recipe online, it's easy."

"So you wouldn't mind if I watch."

"I'd prefer it if you didn't but we all know how you feel about my preferences," she grimaced, knowing he purposely didn't buy bananas when she has one for breakfast every morning.

"Good then, proceed," he said taking a seat at the table where he could see the whole kitchen.

She was just about to mix the dough together when Bellamy stopped her, yanking the wooden spoon out of her hand. "You don't want it to be flat."

"What happened to watching?"

"This here," he wiggled the spoon in front of her face. "Is the reason I was watching, now I'm teaching."

"Teaching," she scoffed.

"Yes, now turn around and don't give me any lip or I'll let you eat your crap pizza alone."

She did as he commanded, loving how he took control, and stared at the bowl of ingredients.

"Stick your hands in the bowl."

"What?"

"No lip," he reiterated.

Clarke sighed and placed her hands in.

"Mix it together without spilling any onto the counter," he said in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

Groaning as the dough began to fight her, Bellamy's arms snaked around her waist and into the bowl, covering her own hands. The feeling of their hands working the dough together was sensual and erotic and Clarke couldn't hold back a longing whimper.

"You okay, princess?" he whispered, his lip grazing her ear.

She cleared her throat, hoping to sound normal, "Fine."

"Okay," he said, pulling his hands out of the evenly consistent dough. "And now we let it rise."

He washed his hands in the sink and walked out of the room. Clarke defrosted and covered the bowl with a towel as directed and finished her homework before she even thought about what just happened.

"Since when did you cook?" Raven asked in the locker room as Clarke changed into her gym uniform.

"That's what you grabbed?"

"Yes, Clarke, the fridge at your house was always filled with takeout containers. This is a shocking development."

"Ray."

"Okay, so what? Everything you've done since meeting him was angled at annoying him. You invited Lexa to movie night after Miller told Monty that he's bringing Bellamy, turning it into a party. You wanted her to start some drama and she did, you've been pushing his buttons since you met. You like him."

"No, I—I refuse to like another guy. I can't."

"Not every guy is Finn, Clarke. And I'm just saying, your taste in girls isn't any better than your taste in guys."

"Niylah was good."

"She was also a one night stand."

"I was planning on going back but Lexa—"

"And now you're over Lexa and loving Bellamy," she smirked.

"Give a dog a bone and she'll run with it," Clarke grimaced, tying her shoe.

"Ready?"

Clarke walked out of the locker room with Raven next to her and they sat on the bleachers awaiting the coaches to come out.

"Anyway, you and Bellamy aren't a bad idea, you guys have a lot of chemistry if the pizza dough incident indicates anything."

"Yeah, but it's asshole Bellamy Blake."

"And you're hard ass Clarke Griffin. I've never seen you compromise with anyone and you do when it's him. I'd be lying if I said he wasn't worth sleeping with."

"What! You and Bell?" Clarke exclaimed softly.

"I forgot you didn't know, it was one time right after we found out about Finn and just before the accident. And _Bell_?" she inquired, wondering when exactly Clarke started calling Bellamy Bell.

Clarke ignored the question, sticking with the fact that _Raven_ slept with _Bellamy_. "You know that telling me that he's good doesn't help me, right? It just makes me want him more."

"He's worth it," Raven smirked and Clarke just knew that she was reliving it in her head.

"I wish I could zone out on you about Wick."

Raven scoffed, "He reminds me of Jasper and I can barely tolerate _that_ future engineer."

"Wick is a manlier Jasper and Jasper is a chemical engineer, Wick is probably structural or electrical or mechanical."

"Okay, now name the arteries," Raven scoffed, knowing that Clarke very well could.

"Don't tempt me, watching your eyes roll back in your head is the best part."

"That's almost sadistic, I'm proud."

Clarke rolled her eyes as Coach Lincoln came over to address the class.

"Your coach is hot!" Octavia said getting into Clarke's car after lacrosse practice.

"Lincoln? He's…yeah, okay, he's hot."

"What's up with you? We talk guys all the time and you're silent about this prime piece of male specimen, you like someone?"

Clarke sighed, "No, I'm frustrated. I haven't drawn since your birthday." It was mostly true because the one thing she's drawn in the months since was Octavia's jerk of an older brother over and over and over again annoyingly and perfectly.

"What inspires you?"

 _Your brother,_ Clarke thought but said, "Nature."

"So let's go! Well, Saturday or we can go Sunday with bell. We can ask him in the morning."

"It's okay, Octavia, I'd rather study."

"You're acting stranger than usual, what's going on?"

"I'm thinking about moving out."

"What? You and Bellamy are getting along! Finally. Why change everything now?"

"Because I made my point, not that I remember what it was anymore."

"So then stay, no angles or excuses besides knowing we have your back, in the best of times and in the worst."

"In sickness and in health, I get it but we aren't married. Octavia, this doesn't mean that I'm going to stop tutoring you or that we'll stop being friends. I just—I miss solitude."

"We—we can give you alone time, it isn't that difficult, Bellamy works Friday and Saturday nights and Raven can take me for a night. She offered, she likes me."

"No, she thinks she can mold you."

"She can learn the hard way," Octavia scoffed.

"Okay," Clarke chuckled imagining Raven's face after a night on Octavia watch. "I'll talk to her about it, Bellamy too."

* * *

Bellamy didn't tell them that he had the night off. Clarke had a hospital function with her mom and Octavia has been spending the Friday nights at Raven's for about five weeks now so he knew she was safe there. Since he didn't have any responsibilities for the night except to study for finals in a few weeks, he took to the library after school and spent a few hours there before heading to his empty house.

He parked his truck next to Clarke's new sedan, guessing that she hitched a ride with her mom and Kane so Bellamy unlocked the door thinking that no one would be there.

Boy, was he wrong. He froze at the sight of Clarke, who was standing at an ironing board that she set up in the kitchen, swaying her hips to the beat of the song playing from her phone. She was dressed in a white button down blouse that covered her round ass but the swaying revealed the lace a little bit and he could see the outline of her dark bra through the white fabric.

He was frozen, captivated by her which he's been fighting since they've met. He watched her put the iron down and it was like his body was possessed and he just watched himself stride silently over to her.

Spinning her around, he heard her gasp in shock and his lips crashed down onto hers. He snapped back in control and his tight grip on her waist loosened, giving her the chance to back out if she wanted but instead she molded her body against his and kissed him back, deepening the kiss.

When her fingers curled into his hair, Bellamy pulled back. "That shirt isn't fair."

"You're supposed to be at work," she mumbled back, pulling his lips back down to hers.

He tightened his hold on her waist, crumpling her shirt in his hands as he managed to pull her even closer.

"Bell," Clarke moaned against his mouth. He loved when she called him Bell, it was like a secret coming from her, endearing.

"Mm," he hummed, she tasted better than he imagined.

"What are we…" he pulled her bottom lip between his and sucked on it and her grip on his hair tightened almost to the point of pulling his hair out. "…doing?" she finished.

"Not arguing," he joked and Clarke pushed him away.

"I have to go," she grimaced and turned for the pants behind her.

"You're not going anywhere," he growled trying to kiss her again but she held him at a distance, not letting him.

"Figure out what you want, Bellamy," she said softly and grabbed her pants.

Bellamy watched her walk down the hallway to her room where she closed the door. "What in the hell was I thinking?" he mumbled to himself and called Miller who always had Fridays off.

"What's up?" he heard almost immediately.

"Please tell me there's a party somewhere and I can drink my memories away."

"What happened?"

"Having a Friday night off happened. Party?"

"I think Monroe is having one, I don't know. I usually follow Bryan who follows Monty's distillery. I was heading over in a few minutes if you want to come over now."

"Yeah, I'll be there."

Bellamy wasn't expecting a _party_ when he walked in to Monroe's house behind Miller. He expected it to be like Clarke's get together months ago where there were a handful of people but there was easily a hundred people dancing and mingling and insanely excited for Monty's arrival with the distillery in tow.

"This is…" he grimaced, not finding the words.

"Yeah, Monroe is relatively popular. Just a warning, keep a fair distance from Harper. She latches," Miller explained, kind of and left Bellamy alone after Bryan dragged him into a room.

Bellamy stuck to the kitchen, figuring he didn't have to go far for a drink and people didn't tend to linger except for Monty who was protecting his distillery.

"Do people pay you?" Bellamy asked after a half hour.

"Yeah, it's a flat fee of two hundred. If I left it unattended it'd be more because people don't know how to use it."

"So you go to all these parties but never enjoy them?"

"No, I do, I just don't party in the conventional sense."

"And you're okay with that?"

"I talk to about eighty percent of the people, not even the party thrower can say that," Monty said over the louder bass.

"Has anyone seen Raven?" some drunk guy asked stumbling into the kitchen.

Bellamy saw a quick blur of blonde hair cut in front of the guy, holding him up before he fell over. "She's home with Octavia, Wick. You can see her tomorrow."

"Raven never misses a party," he slurred.

"Wick, look at me," the girl said. "Raven is not here. She is doing Clarke a favor and watching Bellamy's sister."

"Bellamy?"

"Yes, his sister."

Wick swayed and turned away from the blonde before puking all over the tile floor.

"Do you want the puke or to carry him into the office?" Bellamy offered the blonde who was struggling to hold up the now passed out Wick.

"I'd carry him if I could but I can't so I'll take the puke."

"I'll help when I get back," he promised the girl as he picked up Wick and threw him over his shoulder.

Opening a door, Bellamy found an office with a leather couch against the opposite wall. He placed Wick down on the couch and brought the plastic waste basket by his head just in case he needed it again.

When he got back to the kitchen, the blonde was on the ground, cleaning up the vomit.

"This is probably the worst way to pick up a guy," she grumbled as Bellamy knelt down to help.

"Vomit is very sexy," he chuckled.

When the puke was all cleaned up, they were leaning against the counter when they heard laughter tumbling into the room before the girls they belonged to walked in and one came to a sudden halt.

"What is it?" Bell heard not paying any attention to them, trying to figure out what he wants though he's pretty sure he already knows.

"When did Clarke get here?" the blonde he was talking to asked and his head snapped to the girls that just walked in and their eyes connected. He noticed the white shirt from earlier over loose, playful navy shorts.

The look in her eyes read betrayal, but how could they if she pushed him away? She told him to figure it out what he wants. He was just talking to this girl.

"I'll see you later, Gina," Clarke said and walked out of the room.

"Clarke!" Bellamy called after her and practically chased her through the house, cornering her at the front door. "You pushed me away, told me to be sure."

"So you're figuring it out with Harper?" she spat.

"That's Harper? I had no clue, Clarke. We didn't exchange names, just talked about stupid things."

"Like what? Harper doesn't waste her time talking to guys if she doesn't think they'll sleep with her."

"Wick's puke. The weather. What we're doing this summer. Clarke, this isn't you. You're jealous of Harper? You're so much better than her in an infinite amount of ways."

"I can't do this," she said, yanking on the doorknob but Bellamy slammed it closed.

"Why? Because Finn two timed you? I'm not Finn."

"No, but you've slept around."

"I haven't done that since I've gotten custody of Octavia. I haven't been with anybody."

"Not my problem, now let me go!"

"Why are you so…" he grumbled.

"What could you possibly say right now that would make me forgive you?"

Bellamy sighed, "You drive me crazy, Clarke, and from what I've been told, that's speaks for itself."

"Yeah, it tells me that you shouldn't be the guardian of a minor."

"We'll talk once you've calmed down and are thinking rationally," he said calmly and stepped away from the door and she stormed out.

Bellamy knew he wasn't going to be much fun after that and he called a cab to take him home.

When Bellamy got home the next night from work there was pizza waiting on the stove and a familiar duffel bag he remembers from months ago when Clarke moved in, on the floor next to the front door.

"Clarke!" he called, aggravated as all hell.

"Bell," Octavia said softly from her bedroom door.

"Where's Clarke?" he asked walking over to her.

"In her room. Bell, I don't want her to go," O cried.

"Me neither," he whispered pulling O into his chest, kissing the top of her head.

"Do you love her?"

"I believe that there's a huge possibility that I do."

"Please fight for your princess, Bell," she said pushing him away.

 _My princess,_ Bell scoffed, he loved the sound of it, of Clarke being his princess. "I'll try," he smiled warily, not knowing what he's about to walk into with the princess down the short hallway.

When he opened the bedroom door with the new green _C_ nailed to it, he guessed green when he picked it out and somehow correctly guessed that it was her favorite color. Clarke was muttering about, going between the closet and suitcase on the bench at the end of the bed that his mother had rolls of cloth stacked on.

"Clarke," he said hesitantly, they haven't spoken since Harper's party.

"Get out," she said sounding strained, keeping her back to him.

"No, Clarke, there are two crying girls in my house right now and I need to fix that. Now I know why Octavia is crying but I don't know why you are so _please_ tell me."

She stood at the suitcase silent, still with her back to him.

"Was it the kiss?"

"No," she choked back a sob.

"That I was talking to Harper after I kissed you when you told me to be sure," he closed the door, preventing Octavia's prying ears from hearing.

"After talking to her what were you going to do, Bellamy?"

"Talk to Monty? I don't know, Clarke, but I wasn't interested in her at all. I know that you know that."

"You're graduating," she said deflated.

"So?" he asked desperately needing to see her face.

"You're going to college. I'll be here for two more years."

"Even if I were leaving, do you think that I wouldn't be thinking and wondering about you every second? You're brilliant, beautiful and beyond talented, yet you can't see how far gone I am," Bellamy confessed and took two steps towards her and stood a few feet away, keeping a distance just in case she turned violent. She occasionally tends to be violent.

"Bellamy," she sighed and her soft tone hit him in his groin and he couldn't handle that right now.

"Don't say my name like that princess."

"Don't call me princess."

"It's out of necessity."

She slowly turned around, her arms holding her together as she slowly looked up into his eyes. "You _need_ to call me princess."

"I need _you_ ," he said and watched her, she didn't know how to respond to that so she just stared at him. Not the reaction he was expecting, he wanted her to hug him, kiss him hungrily, and practically devoured him.

"Exactly why I should move out," she grimaced.

"If you move out I can kiss you all I want?" he asked hoping it's what she meant.

"Bellamy," she sighed.

"I told you not to say my name like that," he growled closing the distance between them and kissed her roughly. His fingers threaded into her soft blonde hair as he slowed the kiss and she was kissing him back.

"Bellamy," she moaned into his mouth grabbing at his shirt.

"Princess," he mumbled back.

Clarke was pulling his shirt up and he was fighting her. "Clarke—"

"We've known each other eight months, I've driven you insane the past six and I've lived with you the past three."

"Are you trying to convince me to have sex with you? Because it won't be that hard," he said pulling her lips back up to his, his hand drifting down her back, to the hem of her shirt debating if he should touch the small exposed skin there, skin he's seen more times than he could count but if he does, he can't turn back because the need for her will engulf him and take over.

"You okay?" she asked, her hands on his bare chest.

"You're sixteen. I—I can't."

"My mom knows that I'm in love with you. She won't—"

"The only thing flashing through my head is Coach Lincoln and Octavia. I can't princess."

She nodded and sat on the bed behind her. "I've dreamt of this—us—for months, Bell. When you smirked at me from across the room at Raven's New Years party, I was hooked. If I leave, Bell, I'm not allowed back until I'm eighteen. I—I don't want to leave."

"So I can't kiss you all I want. Hm. Princess Clarke Griffin, will you please unpack all your belongings so I can kiss you senseless whenever I feel so inclined."

Clarke chuckled at Bellamy's formal corniness and pulled him down by his tie to kiss her on the bed, living life dangerously.

* * *

SEVEN YEARS LATER:

"Clarke?" she heard behind her in the small coffee shop by her loft. Turning around she recognized the long brunette hair with light green eyes and olive skin as Octavia Blake. She feels as though it's been forever but it's only been six years, though Clarke could pick up any gossip rag to see the youngest Blake sibling, she's become a house hold name. Fierce like Ronda Rousey and as couture as Jennifer Lawrence, quirks and all.

She stood next to a tanned tattooed man who she seemed to somehow know and it suddenly clicked. "Octavia and Coach Lincoln, wow! How have you been?"

"We're great! Engaged!" she exclaimed, holding the ring out to show.

"It's new," Lincoln explained bashfully.

"What are you guys doing here? Don't you live in L.A. now?"

"We do, it's just that, um," Octavia paused and Clarke knew where it was going.

"Bellamy," she said, his name fell to the floor between them and grew to the size of an elephant. The elephant in the room.

"He's having a publishing party in SoHo tonight and I have a gallery opening tomorrow," Lincoln said finishing for his fiancé.

"L.A. doesn't have galleries?"

"Expanding my audience."

"Ah, I had no idea that you're an artist, I might have tried a little harder in P.E."

"At least you showed up. You should come to the opening tomorrow."

"Lincoln," Octavia scowled.

"What? Artists should stick together."

"No, she just means that I'm Bellamy's ex-girlfriend and it might be awkward after six years."

"You're adults, you can be civil to each other."

"That's not the problem," Octavia said simply and Lincoln looked at her quizzically. "Gina died last year. That tanker explosion on I-95, she was right behind it."

Clarke knew he'd see someone after her but she didn't want to know who it was. Clarke knew Gina from NYU, they lived on the same floor and had a poli-sci class together. Gina went into publishing which might have opened the door for Bellamy. She knew that it was Gina in the explosion and mourned her study buddy but she was Bellamy's girlfriend. That changes things. "I—I didn't know they were together."

"You broke his heart, Clarke. How could you just leave him? Us?" she scoffed. "You know, I wasn't mad at you until now. You _left_ after everything we went through. You tore the stitches out and we never healed."

"O," Lincoln warned.

"It's okay, Lincoln. She's right."

"Babe," he said to Octavia. "They can make their own decisions."

"He's my brother!"

"He's a grown man."

"He's heart strong. He's an idiot."

"I'm not going, okay?" Clarke said and walked out of the line and out of the coffee shop. She leaned against the shop window next door and sighed. _Bellamy's in town_ , the words pounded into his head a hundred times on repeat. Her heart dropping out of her chest. She hasn't seen him in six years and has never stopped wondering about him.

She couldn't stay in Arkadia after what happened, the guilt ate at her whenever she saw someone from the wreckage, their families. How their sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, mothers and fathers died because she left the bio-chem lab unattended in the middle of a dangerous experiment to find Bellamy in the security room looking over all the monitors while incessantly texting her.

She remembers opening the door and saw him sitting with his back to her, she'd recognized his mop of hair in pitch black lighting. Clarke snaked her arms over his shoulders and down his chest to his abs where she could place ginger soft kisses on his neck and jaw.

"I have a jealous girlfriend," he warned playing along.

"She'll have to fight me for you."

"She'll win," he groaned as she nipped at his collarbone. "Unless its Jell-O wrestling, it's her weakness," Bellamy teased tilting his head to access Clarke's mouth.

Little did they know that whilst their impromptu make out session occurred, one of the O2 tanks malfunctioned in Clarke's bio-chem lab while the Bunsen burner wasn't completely shut off and _BOOM_ , the building exploded. Somehow managing to leave the security room unscathed. Bellamy and Clarke were the only two left standing aside from President Cage, who was at a lunch with his rival, Indra.

Clarke tried not to think about that day, tried to forget it ever happened because of Maya, Anya, and Dante along with the employee day care. Kids died because of her.

Bellamy tried his best to remind her that they both did it, that his dirty texts distracted her from the lab. But she was alive because of him and his raunchy texts. Clarke would have stayed in the room with the burner on high and she would never have seen it coming. The quick painless death that she'd wish for everybody.

She needed to see Bellamy, she needed to thank him. He saved her, he deserves to be thanked.

Clarke yanked her phone out of her back pocket and looked up Lincoln, of course the first link that pops up is his engagement to Octavia. Clarke understood Octavia's anger, they became a family and Clarke abandoned them.

The second link was his Facebook page and the third link that she clicked on was an actual website which had tomorrow's gallery information and Clarke sighed in relief.

Bellamy groaned, he hates parties. He hates being the center of attention so he was grateful that that half of his weekend in New York was over and all eyes will be on Lincoln and Octavia.

He sighed as he rolled up the sleeves of his dark grey button down, hating the feeling of his wrists being restrained. Sighing when they were rolled halfway up his arms. He threw his winter coat on and headed to the lobby where he was meeting Miller, Octavia and Lincoln.

After graduation Miller moved to Chicago and bought a bar, he loves it and he's seeing someone and being very secretive about it. Which is completely unlike him but as Bellamy knows all too well, people aren't always who they show you. He learned that the hard way six years ago.

He was halfway through all the paintings and sculptures, finding pieces of Octavia in each when he came across an abstract of a man hunched over at his desk, a bright white glow emanating from the man's silhouette, deafening the angry red surrounding him.

It hit Bellamy in the chest, he knew he was hard to handle when he was writing his novel but he didn't remember it being that bad.

"They all have Octavia in them but I don't see her," a woman said next to him but he was too focused on finding something in the painting to let him know that it isn't him.

"It's her brother," he told her flatly.

"Well, he certainly got the hair correct," he heard with a teasing tone but he wasn't looking for a hook up, not with a nine o'clock flight in the morning.

He reluctantly looked over at the girl in the tight navy blue "that can't possibly be a dress" dress and he was well aware that he was gawking at her. _Princess,_ he carried on the tip of his tongue but didn't say it because she abandoned ship halfway through the battle without even saying goodbye.

Her blonde locks were longer and Bellamy knew better than anyone, trying and failing to join the man bun phase last year.

"Bellamy," she said barely audible over the music and the other conversations around them.

"What are you doing here?"

"I—Lincoln invited me which annoyed Octavia because you were coming and I—I wanted to see you."

"Well, you saw me, Clarke. You can go."

"Bellamy," she sighed and it still gets him _there_ when she says his name like that. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life that day."

"I was sexting you, I didn't save you," he said clenching his jaw and saw her eyes dart down to it before closing them and rolled her exposed shoulders and Bellamy knew that she was worried about how the conversation will end. He knows how the conversation at the coffee shop with Octavia ended but he's not Octavia. He knows that Clarke knows the small differences between the Blake siblings.

"You got me out of the lab and into the most secure room in the building thirty minutes before the explosion. How else would you describe it?"

"Horny teenagers doing horny teenager things. We were stupid back then."

"I thought we had a good run until Mount Weather exploded."

"We did and then you left."

"Bellamy—"

"No, Clarke," he scoffed. "I could have lost you that day. I was aware of that and then I actually did. It sucked and I was deflated. Fu—'May we meet again'? I can't believe you left a voicemail saying that. I should walk away right now but dear god, you're stunning."

He stood there as she took in everything he'd just said. He knows how strategic and analyzed her moves are so he wasn't going to push but she's killing him with the silence.

"I'm sorry about Gina," she finally said.

"Clarke," he sighed, that wasn't the reaction he'd hoped for.

"I didn't mean—"

"I know. I know you."

"You do," she accepted.

"Bellamy!" Octavia called, coming up behind Clarke and he knew everything is going to turn to shit.

"Hey, O! These are amazing!" he said trying to divert her attention from Clarke.

"This one is my favorite," she smirked, pointing at the portrait of Bellamy.

"Seriously? You're the subject of every other piece."

"That's why, brother. Who's this?" she nodded at Clarke who then turned around and Octavia scowled. "You were making sex eyes at _Clarke_!"

"Octavia, I just—"

"You've done enough. Do you have any idea what your leaving did? Bellamy left me with Raven for months while he chased after you. He gave up because of school and then he wasn't even himself. Gina put him back together."

"Well, if anyone could do it, she could," Clarke deadpanned though slightly deflated, she doesn't want to have this fight. But Bellamy had no idea that Clarke knew Gina at all.

"You knew Gina?" he asked realizing how strange it was to ask his ex-girlfriend about his dead fiancé.

"We lived on the same floor freshman year and had a poli-sci class together junior year. We weren't friends but I knew her. I see why you liked her."

Bellamy just stood there watching Clarke, still amazed that she's back until Octavia told her to leave. "Octavia."

"Bell, I don't want her here."

"Just deal with it. I haven't seen her in six years and I would like to catch up with her."

"You just want to know if she has a boyfriend."

"Or girlfriend. And no, I'm not seeing anybody," Clarke said simply.

Bellamy couldn't believe how little Clarke had changed in the six years since she left. She still didn't take anyone's shit and carried herself with such dignity and candor that you knew that every step and sentence was highly calculated.

"I still want you to leave," O said.

"That's fine, I said my peace," she turned for the door.

"Clarke—" Bellamy groaned and glared at his sister before going after his princess.

After he pushed out the door and on the street, he saw her farther down the street than he anticipated. "I can't let you go again, princess!" he called and she stopped dead in her tracks. It was though his words froze her as he caught up to her.

"I haven't heard those words in six years," she whispered when she felt him behind her.

"I missed it."

"Bell—" Clarke sighed, holding herself together. It's freezing out.

"Yes, princess?" he asked, wrapping his coat around her bare shoulders.

"I wanted to go back, I wanted to see you and tell you how much I love you but I couldn't go back there. Too many ghosts."

"You love me?"

"I never stopped," Clarke admitted looking into Bellamy's eyes and he knew the sincerity behind the words.

He closed the small space between them and looked down at her. He fell hard and fast for this girl seven years ago and his feelings haven't let up. Not with Gina, even though he loved her too, it just wasn't the same as with Clarke. He was in love with Clarke and it showed when he _finally_ kissed her. Her lips felt like home, like nothing mattered as long as they were together. He stopped worrying about a second novel, about Octavia's wedding, people's reactions to his novel. He knew everything will be okay as long as he has Clarke at his side.

* * *

ONE YEAR LATER:

"Clarke!" she hears him exclaim before feeling his arms around her waist and he was spinning her around.

"What are you doing?" she laughs, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I love you."

"I know, Bell, we—"

"No, Clarke, don't. Let me do this," Bellamy paused and waited for Clarke to butt in but she silently smiled at him. "I love you. I love how we've been separated for six years and we're back here. And I don't think that I can be away from you again."

"Bell—" Clarke breathes. She remembers all those years ago, how much she despised him while needing him at the same time. He was her life raft and she was his light house.

"I'm not proposing today, but—"

"Bell."

"No, Clarke. I—"

"No, you may not be proposing but I am," she said sternly and Bellamy gaped at her. "Will you _please_ marry me?"

"This is so like you," he scoffs.

"I _princessed_ my way into this but Bellamy, I need an answer before I start panicking and leave. It's my go to move."

"Yes, I will marry you, but just for the record, Clarke. I was waiting for the ring."

Clarke chuckles, "Just kiss me."

Bellamy smiles, gripping her waist before he picks her up and kisses her so thoroughly as he carries her to their bedroom.


End file.
